Saturday, September 25, 2010

Arma snarkumque cano …



It’s easy for us to snicker at the Snark’s bathing-machinephilia from the security of our 21st century beach cabana but such is life …


Oh, the times, oh, the customs, as the Poet once said, when gaudily tattooed youngsters bedecked in fashionable Bangladeshi slave-factory rags and sporting expensive university degrees that have rendered them unable to recognize the identity of the poet quoted above gather on the beaches to hoot at our modest Snark emerging from her bathing machine, clutching only her unfashionable sewing machine, umbrella and dissecting table!


Elsewhere on
The Hunting of the Snark …

Most of life’s evils arise from man's inability to sit still in a bathing-machine